Final Words
by monkeygirl77
Summary: "We are gathered here today for the reading of the last Will and Testament of Lucifer, Second Son of Heaven, Bearer of Heaven's Light, Holder of God's Heart, and Morningstar of this World."


"Well isn't this a joyous occasion."

Castiel jumped from the seat he'd taken at the table, stepping in front of Jack as he took in the new arrival, this was not what they needed, not now, not after everything they had already lost. His blade slid into his hand, Sam reaching for his gun, Jack stared at the mysterious man wide eyed, hands grasping the shoulder of Castiel's jacket to keep from falling over. He was still extremely weak after what Lucifer had done to him.

The man smiled at them, taller then even Sam was, dark hair pulled back, flowing down his back of silver robes. He held a scroll in hand, a scythe in the other, and held an air of _'the end'_ about him. Everlasting peace, it wafted from him in waves, peace and final _rest_. His silver eyes twinkled in the light of the room, his lips twisted into a hard smile as he took in the shorter angel, his blade, and he gave a soft chuckle at the appearance of it.

"Do you plan to kill me Castiel?", he shook his head and set the scythe aside, "I think not.", he waved at the table and empty chairs, "Please take a seat.", he set the old scroll down on the table and hummed, rummaging into the folds of his robes. Jack made a small curious noise, drawing the man's attention to him, the Nephilim backed away from him when their eyes met.

"Who...Who are you?"

The man cracked a smile, "My _my_, I can see the resemblance dear boy, I hardly believed it when I heard, but looking at you now," he clicked his tongue softly and gave a slight bow, "Son of the Morningstar, I am the last Archangel, the end of times, the one who turns the chapter of life, Carrier of souls, Archangel of Death.", Jack followed his eyes as he bowed slightly in greeting, "I am Azrael." And then on a less formal note, he gave a small grin, "You can call me Uncle Az."

"Azrael?", for a moment, he feared, he feared that perhaps he was going to die, it most certainly felt like it. Everything in him hurt, the mere motion of breathing was excruciating. Azrael chuckled at his expression, a deep sound that rolled down each of their souls, Castiel's grace quivered, and he shook his head, "No, little Morningstar, I am not here for you."

Finally, he found what he was looking for, pulling out an old envelope from one of his many inner pockets, and placed it on the table next to the scroll. Azrael frowned as he took in his audience, noting the lack of bodies, they were short a few souls.

Sighing heavily, he spared the legendary Sam Winchester a side glance, "You Winchesters will be the _death_ of me, I swear it.", he smiled at his own joke and folded his hands together, bowing his head slightly, silver eyes began to glow, glow until the pupil was completely gone, and the atmosphere in the room _shifted_.

_"Sammy?"_

The younger Winchester brother turned quick, taking a sharp inhale of breath, and let the gun fall from his hand as he sprinted around the table to meet the new arrival in the doorway. He threw himself at the smaller man, holding him tight, burrowing into his shoulder, not wanting to let go again. Dean Winchester was there, in the flesh, and he stared at them all in bewilderment. The last he knew, Michael had gone back on their deal, they were jumping through time, and then in the next, there was a loud screech, a bright flash, and he was being attacked by a sudden ambush of his baby brothers arms. He hugged Sam back just as tight. Castiel looked between the archangel before them and the hunter, a smile flitting over his features.

Azrael smiled at them, winked at Jack, and bowed his head again.

The bunker shook a moment, rumbling in its foundation, the lights flickered dangerously, and another appeared in the wake of a loud thundering crash. Golden wings flared violently, grace swarmed and circled, condensing into the form of a man. The form took shape, details began to reveal themselves; tan skin, golden brown hair, and whiskey colored eyes faded evenly.

A gasp filled his lungs.

Gabriel stared at them all, wide eyed, almost unbelieving, looking between the two Winchesters and Castiel, taking in his little _nephew_ Jack and his younger brother _Azrael_.

He never got to say a word, mouth opened as he made to speak, but was interrupted. Azrael clapped his hands softly, gathering attention back to himself, and he motioned for them to sit. Gabriel threw himself down into a chair, rolling his shoulders, watching the Nephilim sit gingerly as if it pained him in the mere motion to do so, and frowned when he saw just what had happened to his nephews grace.

There was a distinct lack of _something _in this world and he knew almost immediately what had happened. He had told them, _told_ them all, that bastard loved no one but himself and now the poor boy was almost as _human_ as his kind can get.

Azrael gave a soft noise, "Az, not that I ain't appreciative for the whole revival schtick, but what are you doing here?", silver eyes turned to Gabriel at his soft words, "You don't usually involve yourself with matters like this."

The angel of death nodded, it was true, he preferred to stay in the background and only step forward when the need arose. But he had made a promise, a promise that one does not break, and he was here to fulfill that promise now that the time had come. Sitting at the end of the table, eyes staring at him from all around, he unrolled his scroll, opened the envelope, and took a breath.

"That is true _brother_ mine,", he finally looked back to the Messenger, perhaps a bit pointed, and if the Messenger took in the meaning behind it he made no outward acknowledgement, "And had I not given my word to do so, I would not be here now, I don't like getting involved with these things until the time comes to ferry them. But I promised. And thus, here I sit."

"Word to do what exactly?", Sam piped up from his left, and Azrael rubbed a hand down his face, looking down again. He looked tired, but then on the same notion, Sam figured it must be exhausting doing his job. People were dying all over the world, every minute, and that was a lot of souls to ferry around and gather. He wondered who was doing it now that the Archangel was here with them. Probably reapers.

"We are gathered here today for the reading of the last Will and Testament of Lucifer, Second Son of Heaven, Bearer of Heaven's Light, Holder of God's Heart, Morningstar of this World."

...

_The darkness of death is like the evening twilight; it makes all objects appear more lovely to the dying._

_~Jean Paul_

_…_

Gabriel was struck silent a moment, he knew that there was something missing but never had he thought that it was as bad as that, a pang of hurt shot through him at the loss of his sibling, though, he supposed, he had lost him long ago.

"Lucifer had a will?"

Azrael nodded, folding his hands in front of him, looking pointedly to the scroll before him.

"Our brother was an enigma, he detested most humans, but out of us all, he was most similar to them. He wrote it some time ago, after learning of his son's conception, and gave it to me for safe keeping when the inevitable finally happened."

"Wait." Sam held up a hand, his brother already nodding at his yet to be asked question, "He knew he was going to die?"

"Of course, Lucifer has known for a long time that he was on borrowed time, he was supposed to be finished long ago. But a certain two humans decided to put a stop in that plan. He was ready to go. He knew for some time and wanted to make sure that he was able to give everything to those he wanted to have them.", Azrael looked to something at his feet, answering absentmindedly, understanding that they would have questions. He would call them fools not to have questions.

Gabriel raised a hand slightly, calling attention to himself once more, "You mean-"

"Yes, dear brother", there was a hint of slight annoyance in his tone, "He knew for some time that his end was coming. There is much our brother knew, much more then he let on, and he was more than ready.", he looked between them all once, "Anything else or may we carry on?"

They each shook their heads, and he nodded, looking back to the scroll. He unraveled it slowly, it rustled as he did, and the archangel of death took a deep breath.

_"I hereby declare that this is my last will and testament and that I hereby revoke, cancel and annul all wills previously made by me either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age to make this will and of sound mind and that this last will and testament expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress."_

Azrael reached into his robes once more, pulling out a number of various items, the room had taken on a somber mood and Gabriel swallowed when the archangel before them pulled from his robes a silver staff, his robes were deeper then they appeared, as the silver staff was longer than expected, three prongs ended into sharp tips.

The Morningstar's trident.

Three little viles.

A large book.

A few blades.

A number of things gathered on the table.

Castiel eyed the trident longingly, to have that in his command, to hold such power, he could fix the wrongs he had made in this world. There was so much they could do with that at their call.

_"I bequeath unto the persons named below, if he or she survives me by 24 hours, the following:"_

Azrael grabbed first the vile nearest him, shining bright blue, swirling with the raw grace of the late Morningstar, the container was nearly frozen over, ice particles fell to the table as he held it up.

_"To my dearest baby messenger, I leave you my grace, my strength, my power, may I protect you even after death and any who assume to cause you harm never see what's coming to them. I never meant to hurt you as I have, and there are no words that can express my sorrow for the rift that has formed between us. I love you my baby Gabriel, I always will, live long and never fade. Take my grace, my source of life, and live on. Let your laughter ring through the heavens, let your smile still shine brighter than any sun, and never let yourself change. Be strong little one. I am watching always."_

Azrael passed the vile to the shaking hands of the Messenger, Gabriel sucked in a breath as it fell into his hands. It crackled, as he unscrewed the cap, and the swirling energy swirled up, around his fingertips, and he tipped his head back as tears formed in his eyes.

The grace sent shivers down his spine as it melded with his, and for a brief moment, he swears he felt the cool arms of his brother curl around him. It was there and in the next moment, it was gone, a fleeting moment. Gone too soon.

Regret pulled in his belly as he snapped his fingers, and a dozen candy bars appeared on the table.

The Messenger felt himself rushed, cold shot up his spine, and his wings manifest into the metaphysical world, the feathers shown with bright blazing gold, and the ice blue tint seeped down his flight feathers, his brothers grace patching and mending everything there was to heal.

A sob broke from his throat, and down the table, Azrael continued on without lacking sympathy in his tone.

_"To Dean Winchester, you pain in my eternal ass, I leave my vaults. My weapons, my armies, my blades. I hate you, with a deep burning passion, but my respect for you is just as potent. There are not many humans who have the balls you do, boy, and I hope your ugly ass mug lives a long life. Do not let your past become your future Dean Winchester, you are a better man then your father was, and I have seen you at your best and your worst. Follow that heart of yours and try not to get yourself killed you asshole. _Such a way with words, isn't he?"

Azrael slid the blades down the table for the hunter in question, among them a short sword, jewels in the hilt, Lucifer's archangel blade. Forged by the hand of God Himself for the second Archangel in His creation. And with them a ring of ancient keys. The elder looked as shocked as everyone felt, catching them in silence, fingering the runes carved into the finer blade.

He had no regrets in bagging the devil.

But he did bow his head as he closed his fingers around the hilt of the archangels sword.

Castiel eyed the dual blades jealously, though he was happy for his friend, it was not to anyone that an Archangel bestowed their blades upon, and they would only hold their power in the grip of whom it was given to. A weapon to hold with awe.

Azrael eyed the seraph carefully but continued.

Ignoring the soft cries from the Messenger, and the mumbling from the elder hunter, he continued on.

_"To little Sammy Winchester, you my perfect little vessel, I leave my knowledge and my memories. I bestow upon you the key to my library, all the books that your little bookworm heart can imagine, I have the knowledge of Creation Sammy-boy, and I pass it on to you. Use it wisely. Stay smart Kiddo. I never meant for you to have the life you had, and I never meant to see you suffer as you did, nothing I give will make up for your pain. I only hope that one day we may meet again, and I can show you everything, from the start to the end. Don't change Sam. Follow your heart and your brain, keep saying 'no', and take care of yourself."_

Azrael waved his hand, a large volume appeared under his fingers, and he pushed it down to the younger hunter. The large man reached for it just in time with him, pulling it back with him, and he flipped the cover open.

The notes were handwritten, in an ink he had never seen before, and he brushed a hand over the page gingerly, like one does an artifact of a novel.

Finally, they came to the youngest in the room, and Azrael's eyes settled on the Nephilim boy. Jack hid back nervously, but his curiosity won over on his fear, and he met his gaze. Azrael smiled at him sadly.

_"And, to my beloved only little son, my fledgling, my precious baby boy, I leave to you my heart. I know it's not much, but the love it holds for you, it will be like a strength you have never felt. I adore you, my boy, and I am so proud of you. That is not all though my little one, to you I also leave my grace, with yours, I am sorry for the pain I will cause but everything I do is for your own good, though you may not know it at the time. Shine brighter each and every day my little Morningstar, you are the light bearer now, you shine brighter than even me, and you are only little yet. I have no doubts you will change the world given the opportunity and my only regret, one of many, is that I will not be there to see it. To you I give the key to my Kingdom, it is all yours, the doors of Pandemonium will open for you should you want it, the hounds, the pups, everything, it is yours my little prince."_

Azrael passed him the last two viles, one the same bright white and the other a bright gold, both reached for him though he had yet to unscrew the caps, and an old rusty key. Jack took them gingerly, mouth open in awe, and he followed his uncle's example, uncapping both viles, as the grace reached for him, he tilted his head back and swallowed both.

It was a strange feeling.

His grace surged through him, empowering him once again, healing what had been broken and his eyes swirled an odd silvery gold color.

The feeling of his father's grace was odd, it was cold, but not too much so, and he shivered and giggled at the same moment. It rustled through his unseen wings, tingling and tickling, before the surging feeling began fading away, settling around him protectively, like a pair of arms wrapping around him snuggly and tender.

"What's Pandemonium?"

Azrael didn't so much as acknowledge the hunters question, so Gabriel turned to answer, swallowing thickly, his tears halted if only for a moment. This was all too surreal for him, to know that in this, his brother was truly gone. Lucifer was not coming back, and he had no intention to do so either, it broke him to know that the last words he would ever speak to him were ones that had undoubtedly cut deep, and he had known his fate even then and hadn't said a word about it. To spare him, probably, or to ensure it wasn't stopped this time around.

His last words to him hadn't been kind in the slightest.

"It was..is..Hell's Capital. Lucifer's Palace. He locked it up before he himself was thrown in the cage. No one has been able to open the gates since. I've been there once, maybe twice, its beautiful; marble and gold, luscious plants and glowing gems, Luci designed it himself."

Castiel's breath hitched as the angel of death held the trident up.

_"And still, to my son, my precious boy, I leave you my trident. May it serve you just as it served me. Never shall you fall to the hand of another monster like evil Michael or me again. I love you my son, despite what you may think, and someday I hope to see you again, see how much you have grown."_

He held the weapon out to the boy, and Jack stared at it, eyes wide, unsure as to what he should do now. Azrael motioned him forward, close enough so that he may place the item in his hands, it was cool to the touch, the staff of the trident was smooth and cold, he curled his fingers around it and smiled faintly, a familiar feeling from the grace that had wrapped around him overtook his senses.

They watched the boy silently, for a moment, as he looked the weapon over carefully. The last physical thing he had to his father, a man whom he barely got to honestly meet, and he was holding it in his hands.

Gabriel whispered to the other archangel as Azrael stood back up, tucking his free hand into his robes and he curled around the staff of his scythe, to which he nodded and followed him from the room.

Jack pulled the trident closer, looking it over, running his fingers over the fine details carved into the metal.

"Jack." He turned to look at the call of his name, Castiel was standing, holding a hand out to the Nephilim, "Give it here."

"But it's mine."

"You have no need for a weapon like that."

The young nephilim pulled it back, curled his arm around it, and shook his head.

"He gave it to me."

"_Jack_, give it to me."

"Castiel." The voice of the archangel called out from the entrance of the room, Azrael had returned, with Gabriel at his shoulder, and he stepped into the room with his scythe in hand. "It is his. Lucifer left it for him to have. You will leave it be with its new owner."

"He is—"

"Not your son." His voice held an icy edge; death could be calm and welcoming, or it could be violent and spiteful, two sides of the same coin. Azrael slammed the staff of his scythe on the floor, sparks shot out of it, and the ground shook, until the other archangel laid a hand on his shoulder. "Despite how much you've convinced yourself that he is. He is not _yours_. The trident is his to keep. I swore an oath to it. Do not c_ross _me on this."

The Angel of Death smiled to the little nephilim, so grown in appearance, but still so young underneath it all.

"One last parting gift, at the desire of the Messenger, you've never seen your father." He turned to look at the two hunters, "None of you have gotten to see the _true _Morningstar. Death peals away all facades, renews what was lost, and heals all wounds." He waved his hand, the air glistening under his touch, a small swirling portal taking shape with a few motions, "I can grant a few moments."

Sam gasped as a man stepped out of the portal, glowing softly against the dull lighting of the bunker, and he could see the bookcase through him on the other side. He was beautiful, rose blonde hair curled just under his ears, a few stray curls hung over his eyes, that shined like rubies. He was tall, taller then Sam himself, and wore robes made of light that swayed to an unseen breeze.

He said something, that they could not hear, but Azrael nodded.

"He says 'hello'."

The figure turned first to the nephilim, a smile lighting up his eyes, as he reached a glowing hand out to caress his cheek. Jack stared up at him, he was so tall, and felt the familiar chill from the grace he had taken from his father. It was comforting and cool to the touch, not too overpowering, and he couldn't help but smile in return when a cool wisp of a thumb rubbed over his cheek. Again, he spoke, but no words came out.

Azrael supplied them, "He says you are beautiful. He is proud of who you've become. And that he loves you with all his heart." The man nodded at the spoken words, indicating that was indeed what he had said, and he bent forward. Jack closed his eyes at the feeling of a cool peck pressed to his forehead, the tall man stepping back slightly to look him over again, _"Father?"_ the man nodded, smiling down at him, rubbing his thumb over his cheek again, "He says 'yes'. This is what he truly looks like, dear nephew, he may have fallen but he was forever be an angel. An angel of light." Another cool wisp pressed to his temple and the man turned away, to stand before the Messenger, and Gabriel averted his own gaze.

How could he bare to look at his brother now, in this precious granted moment, after everything he had said to him.

A glowing hand curled under his chin and lifted his head to meet the ruby red gaze, concern shone in those eyes, and he choked on another sob. It seems as though he wasn't done with that yet.

"Luce….I'm _so sorry_."

Tears made his eyes shine, and the man turned in silent pleading to the other Archangel, he didn't grant it often because it took a lot of his grace to grant it, but he would make an exception now, and Azrael nodded to him.

Gabriel choked on another sob when the tall man bent forward and enveloped him in a hug, a real physical hug, he could feel the arms around him and the breath from his nose and the strength of the embrace. Sam watched as the man became more solid, never losing his glow, and curled around the shorter archangel. Gabriel's hands appeared around his midsection, clutching to the soft robe as tightly as he could manage, and he had to look down at the pained sob that echoed through the silent room.

"I c-can't do it L-L-Luce! I c_an't! _R-R-Raphs de-dead and M-Mi-Micha a-a-and your g-gone! I c-c-cant do i-it on-on-on my o-own!"

The arms around him tightened, **_'Don't cry, my baby Messenger, we will all be together soon.' _**And the Messenger hung onto him for all that he was worth, his last big brother, the very last one was gone now, and he was all alone. **_'We wait for you, just beyond the gate, watching over our baby Messenger.' _**The older man pulled back, caressing both cheeks in his large hands **_'We have never left you, my little fledgling, and we never will.'_**He choked on a breath, staring up at him as his older brother wiped the tears away **_'Watch over my son for me, uncle Gabriel?' _**he nodded, sniffling as he agreed, and closed his own eyes at the solid kiss to his temple. The man turned to look at Azrael imploringly, he grimaced, but nodded "For a moment longer. This is starting to hurt."

He nodded and turned back to the Nephilim, pulling him into a quick embrace, cool and warm and solid, and Jack pressed himself closer **_'Be brave my baby Star. Be brave for me. I love you with all my heart and grace. I'll be watching over you always.'_**

"I hate to be the one to cut this short, but you have to return, I can't keep the portal open much longer."

He gave the nephilim one final squeeze and stepped back, waving to them all, and stepped back into the swirling portal. Azrael sagged against his scythe as he swiped his hand through it, blowing it away with ease, and gave them all a tired smile.

"My promise is complete."

And he disappeared.

...

**AN: This has been in my drafts for a long while now and I just finally got around to completing it lol! I've come to the conclusion that I have various versions of my character Azrael and just learned to live with it! Hope y'all enjoyed it!**


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